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White Flag

So much water from the sky
my flowers are bruised and crushed
flowerbeds are flooded
my tears are disguised
as they mingle

Only the shaking sobs are noticed
convulsing my tiny body which has
withstood too much too soon
the white flag unseen
held tight amidst the downpour

Published in The Lark

By Chrisssie Morris Brady

I've read poetry since I was nine and have written creatively since I was fourteen (probably long before that). After writing book reviews and social comment, I decided I wanted to write poetry. I have no formal training, but I surround myself with poets and their writing. I am honing my craft.
I have two published collections which I don't feel good about, but have been published by madswirl.com and other publications. I live on the south coast of England with my daughter. I am seriously ill.

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